


Not Quite Santa

by eris_of_imladris



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Origin story for something that might not have needed one, but now it has one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eris_of_imladris/pseuds/eris_of_imladris
Summary: How can Aoi be Santa this Christmas if it’ll take nine years for Akane’s wish to come true?Written for ZEcret Santa 2019. Prompt: Akane and Aoi celebrate a small but meaningful Christmas together while on the run (any point in the timelines)
Relationships: Kurashiki Akane & Kurashiki Aoi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: ZEcret Santa 2019





	Not Quite Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I couldn’t resist the Kurashiki angst and my first-ever Christmas story happened! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I loved writing it, and Merry Christmas!

For the first time since their parents died, Aoi Kurashiki didn’t know how to be Santa.

It had always been easy. Akane would write a letter to Santa, Aoi would swipe it from the mailbox, and there would be something on there that he could afford, even if it wasn’t what she necessarily wanted most - even with her huge imagination and love of the unreal, she also understood that they were poor.

And now they weren’t poor, or at least they wouldn’t be for long now that Akane knew how to get the money necessary to run that game again, which meant there was theoretically more of an opportunity for gifting. But Aoi couldn’t think of anything at all.

Whenever he tried to think of Christmas, all his mind returned to was the story Akane told him he’d say in the future, the one about the two Santas - the white-robed Santa killing the one in black, the black-robed Santa’s blood staining the coat a jolly red.

It gave a whole new meaning to the holiday, and after all, he was celebrating with a new Akane. In the last month, he’d barely recognized the Akane who he grew up with who believed in everything and everyone. Now, she only believed in a thin thread tying them to the future where every little thing they did for the next nine years could make her live or die. Everything from the setup of Building Q in Nevada to getting to Nevada to his acting skills and her hair bound in a pair of hair clips, not quite stars and not quite flowers, with little circles on the ends.

No matter how hard he wished for the old Akane back, for them to both live their lives without ever knowing something called a Nonary Game existed, Aoi didn’t believe in any kind of Santa. It was hard enough to believe that his sister stood in front of him alive (well, mostly) after what happened last month.

She hadn’t left a letter for Santa this year, and it wasn’t like what some of the other kids in school said when their little brothers and sisters figured out Santa wasn’t real. Aoi had no doubt that if not for what happened on the Gigantic last month, there would be a letter waiting for him, asking for a stuffed animal or a dollhouse or a pet.

The dollhouse wouldn’t have been a bad idea before the Gigantic, but now Akane was so attached to the doll Junpei gave her that she hardly let it out of her sight. Not to mention it was a creepy little thing that definitely didn’t belong in a cutesy dollhouse - just like all the babble about morphogenetic fields didn’t belong spewing out of the mouth of his little sister.

Pets were off the table as well, now that they’d need to move around. There was no good way to keep a pet if they might need to move to a different continent in the blink of an eye; they were technically still on the run from Hongou and his goons at Cradle Pharmaceuticals, and the last thing they needed was a snafu at customs or something else to part Akane from another thing she’d get attached to.

Without any further guidance, Aoi was lost. He didn’t know how to do Christmas without letters to Santa and presents under a tree.

And so, he didn’t get a tree. Akane never mentioned it, and neither of them pointed out the spot in the small apartment where they were staying that would be perfect for a well-decorated tree. He wasn’t sure he could even get her help in decorating, and they didn’t need a bare pine tree in the living room to remind them of yet another thing that had been ruined.

After a few days of hearing Christmas carols in the streets and garlands strung over shop windows, however, Aoi felt something missing. They had to do something for Christmas; they couldn’t let this be something else Hongou took away. Even without a tree, even without Santa, there had to be something he could do to commemorate the holiday.

He found himself in an American store one day after school, looking for something Christmas-y that wouldn’t bring up any old memories. A bit of an escape from all that had happened, something to lighten the mood of an apartment that felt more like a funeral home than an actual home some days.

In one of the aisles close to the end, he found something he’d seen, but never bought before - a gingerbread house kit with pre-cut pieces (no need to use the oven, the idea of which scared Akane for good reason), two gingerbread people and icing and candy to decorate. None of his friends ever had gingerbread houses before, and after their parents died and money was tight, it was hard enough to afford a small tree and Akane’s present without buying extras. Now, though, they didn’t have to worry about money. It would be no problem.

The kit sat unopened on their one and only table for a few days. Aoi wondered if Akane would even be interested until he found her sitting at the table on Christmas Eve, legs crossed, brow furrowed, trying to affix the roof to the walls with white frosting.

Aoi didn’t say a word. He just got a little closer, then closer still, until he could reach the walls. He gingerly put his hands on them, startling her into looking up and meeting his eyes. She lost her grip on the left roof tile, which fell in a sticky mess on the table.

“It’s okay,” Aoi said, picking it up and applying a new line of white frosting. “Here, you get this end, and I’ll get that end.” Prepared to hold both on his own, he was surprised when Akane leaned in, holding the slabs of gingerbread together.

They stayed in silence, not meeting each other’s eyes until more than the necessary time had passed and Aoi gingerly removed his hands. The roof stayed, and Akane’s hand pulled the rest of the kit closer in. She picked up one of the two gingerbread people and the white icing they’d used to make the roof stick together and drew some jagged lines (impressively straight, considering her dexterity still wasn’t what it had been before) on the head.

“Is that me?” Aoi asked.

“Yeah,” she said, the first sound he’d heard from her all day. That wasn’t like her, but after their fight the other day about forgetting and remembering and moving on, he’d almost forgotten the sound of her voice not angry.

“Want me to make you, or…?” His words trailed off as she put down the white icing and picked up the black, drawing a vague outline of pants on the cookie’s legs.

“You can start the sides,” she said, gesturing to the white icing and the assortment of colorful candies still on the tray.

Turning his attention away from the people, although he did notice Akane giving him a tank-top of sorts that he’d never wear, he looked down at the picture on the box. He noted the white windows drawn in and the small candy doorknob and the lane of candy running into the door. Without any further guidance, he tried to mimic the picture as best as he could, but the windows came out a little crooked and the door snapped just a tiny bit as he opened it, and he popped the snapped-off bit into his mouth before Akane could notice.

He tried to peek at Akane’s work along the way, but she hid the gingerbread people so well as she hunched over them that he simply worked on the rest of the house until it was time for him to put something together for dinner and try to get her to eat. He looked over at her a few times as he cooked, realizing that as she put the figures down and started to touch up his work on the house itself, the corners of her mouth twitched like she might smile.

Dinner was, as usual, a desolate affair; although there was finally enough food for both of them to eat, most of his time was spent trying to convince Akane to actually put food in her mouth. Whatever he ate didn’t taste good; he could barely even remember what they’d eaten as he did the dishes and Akane returned to her gingerbread project. She leaned over it so closely that he didn’t try to approach again, instead retreating to his room, frustrated.

Part of him wanted to run back in there and try to clarify what he’d meant in their argument the other day, that he knew she needed to remember and speak about every detail to stay alive, but he needed a life where the Nonary Game wasn’t the only thing in the world. The tension of it all ran hot under his skin, but he didn’t need her reminder that something was boiling inside her as well.

Aoi sighed. He was supposed to be the big brother, and he was the one who would have to do everything he could to help Akane. She was still a kid – hell, two months ago, she’d have still sent a letter to Santa even though she was almost a teenager. Now if only Santa would write to her instead, if only he could use that to explain…

Sliding into his chair, Aoi grabbed a piece of paper. Even if it didn’t help, it couldn’t hurt.

“Dear Akane,

I’m sorry,” he began, aware that he’d apologized to her so many times for things he hadn’t done over the last couple of weeks that it was starting to annoy her, “that you’ve had such a hard year. You are very good, no matter what anyone says.”

It felt so trite that he nearly tore the note in half, but it wasn’t like he could think of anything better.

“I didn’t receive a list from you this year, and the things you want cannot come true right now.” They would be real in Building Q in nine years, on the day that silly boy from her class who gave her the doll that got her killed in the first place would save her life. “It is beyond my magic to move the time closer.”

He sighed, pushing the paper away. It was almost too late to do anything at all, and it wasn’t a proper Santa’s letter without a gift. Exasperated, he got up and shuffled into the hallway and then to the living room, where he found the completed gingerbread house sat with the Akane and Aoi gingerbread figures standing outside by the door, with no sign of his sister.

Now that he had the chance to get a good look at the gingerbread Akane, he could see that she had drawn the outfit she described to him that she would wear in Building Q. It seemed overwhelming for her to get out all at once, but she did describe the purple dress with the black pattern (looking more like blobs of icing here, but still), the striped socks and brown boots, the stripes on the sleeves and there was even a little red and blue spot on the wrist that was probably supposed to be the watch (Aoi rubbed his wrist; he could still feel his sometimes). In her hair, there was a little pin that wasn’t quite a star or a flower.

A sudden pang of guilt swept over Aoi. He tried to get Akane to think about things other than what had happened, but he probably took it too far. She did need to get things out, after all, and he was supposed to be there to listen to her. He was supposed to be a lot of things, he thought angrily as he looked down at the cookie that could crumble as easily as his sister’s life.

Suddenly, an idea came into his head. A way to show Akane that he was listening to her, that he’d seen and understood that in nine years he was going to wear a silly-looking tank-top and black pants and she was going to wear the dress with a shirt under it for some reason even though she hated being too warm and couldn’t get cold nowadays, and the whole rest of the outfit that made no sense.

Aoi hurried out into the cold, hoping the nearest convenience store wasn’t closed. They were in this thing together, no matter what. And while there was no letter from Santa telling Aoi what Akane wanted, he knew exactly what she needed.

When he got back, present in tow, he rummaged through his papers until he found the note, then added a final line: “In the meantime, I hope this helps. - Santa” He set it under the gingerbread house, slipped the present through the hole in the door, and went to sleep.

Unlike in previous years, he wasn’t awakened at the crack of dawn by a squealing sister. The sun was in the sky already and he could smell the gingerbread house as he rolled out of bed. Belatedly, he realized there was no tradition for finding presents by the gingerbread house. Would she even know it was there?

He made his way into the kitchen, slippers sliding along the floor. There were no squeals of happiness, no clatter of excited footsteps. Akane sat at the table facing the gingerbread house, the little door open, her hand inside before she pulled his present out into the light.

In her hand lay a pair of hair clips, not quite stars and not quite flowers, with little circles on the ends.

She turned around, meeting Aoi’s eyes as he stood in the hallway. He was frozen silent, unsure of what to say. Had he done the right thing? The wrong thing? The kind of thing that would make her live in her own world again until he could pry her out?

A small smile spread across her face as she looked at the hair clips. “Merry Christmas, Santa,” she said, and for the first time in a month, she sounded like herself.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, finally stepping into the room, warmed by the thought that he might be able to pull off the good Santa from her story, after all.


End file.
